


Sorry Don’t pay the bills, now does it?

by Strength_in_pain



Series: John and his boys [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry John Winchester, Community: spn-spankings, Gen, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Kid Sam Winchester, Spanking, Teen Dean Winchester, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:21:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strength_in_pain/pseuds/Strength_in_pain
Summary: “Sorry don’t pay the bills now does it?” I remember Dean said this in an episode, so I made a story about John saying it to him when he was young.





	Sorry Don’t pay the bills, now does it?

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the only one I wrote where I actually wanted to strangle John half way through my own story. So i’m sorry in advance to Mika. 
> 
> Dean girl, this is for you because you wanted a strict John serving some discipline so he delivered. 
> 
> (Fun fact, I also mentioned something about “Sorry don’t pay the bills” in my story Weekend with Bobby. So it would be cool to re-read that one if you want to :)

> **Sorry Don’t Pay the Bills Now Does it? Parkwood Lodge, Fish Creek, Wisconsin. February 3rd 1992. Dean 13, Sam 9.**

John Winchester was driving on Hwy. route 42, between Ephraim and Fish Creek, right in the center of Door County. There was a beautiful hotel right where he was and he decided to stop at the hotel and see if it was affordable. Fortunately, the Parkwood lodge, had a nice price range and John was able to scrap enough money together to stay in the one bedroom family suite. It had a Queen size Bed & Queen Size Sleeper Sofa in a living area, a Cable TV in a the living room & bedroom, A/C, four burner range oven, refrigerator, coffee maker, microwave and bath with tub/shower. 

The building was more luxurious than John and his two boys were typically used to. While John needed to get to Peninsula Park to stop a Djinn from feeding off of innocent humans, he could leave his boys in a nice, decorated, beautiful lodge. Of course, he told his kids to take the typical precautions: salt the windowsills, lock the doors, only answer the phone after it rings once, then calls back. And if they are afraid or nervous, call him or talk to the maid. John always asks one maid to keep an eye on his boys while he is away. So he had nothing to worry about, or so he thought. 

“Deeeaaaaannnnn.” Sam whined from his spot on the sofa. His head was hanging off the side, while the blood rushed to his brain. 

“What.” Came the curt response. 

“I’m bored.” 

“Then watch some T.V.” Dean muttered. He flipped through his favorite comic book nonchalantly. 

Sam flicked his eyes to the T.V. Screen where the Badgers were playing the Wolverines. “I’ve been watching T.V. all day. Scratch that, I’ve been watching T.V. all week. Dad’s been gone so long.”  

Dean exhaled heavily, dropping the comic book on his bed. “Fine. What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know. Anything.” 

Dean, the mastermind of all games, had a creative idea thanks to the T.V. screen. “Why don’t we play baseball ourselves? I think I have a ball in my bag.”

Dean’s idea had captured Sam’s interest. The boy was suddenly bouncing around with excitement. “Yeah! And we can use hangers as our bats!”

“Perfect thinking, Sammy.” Dean praised as he pulled out the round white ball with red lace. He threw the ball up in the air then caught it. Dean repeated this a few times before tossing it to his little brother, Sam. 

Sam was already putting pillows around the room to indicate the bases. While he did that, Dean created a set of rules for this specific version of baseball. There was, after all, only two of them. 

Dean pitched the ball first, and Sam hit it straight into Dean’s hand. “Out.” Dean called. Sam swung again, this time he managed to get a guy on first base. The game went on. By the fourth inning, Sam had 3 scores and Dean had 2. But it was Dean’s turn to bat. 

Kicking the pillow with his foot, Dean lined up the hanger just like a professional baseball player. Sam threw the ball watching with awe as Dean hit it. First of all, the hanger cracked in half, but not before forcefully propelling the ball out the window. 

There was an earth-shattering crash, as the ball flew through the second floor window and into the parking lot. 

“I win!” Dean cried happily. 

“What?” Sam exclaimed, turning his gaze back to his brother. 

“Past the lamp is a home run. Two men scored, Sammy.” 

“Nuh uh, that was a foul ball.” Sam yelled. 

Dean threw his half broken hanger on the floor, shouting, “Are you crazy? It went right down the line.”

“It was a foul.”

“Shut up. It was fair.”

“I want a do-over.” Sam insisted. 

“Fine by me.” Dean agreed. Sam grabbed his baseball out of his bag and threw it at Dean. The ball hit the sink in the bathroom, bursting the pipe so water started leaking everywhere.

“Crap!” Dean screamed, cringing as the water soaked the floor. 

“Now we really have to quit.” Sam said. 

Dean agreed, but he added, “by the way, that was a triple.”

“Get back up there.” Sam said, grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator. He tossed it at Dean, and the older boy hit it, cracking it open. Water spilled everywhere, but the plastic landed on the floor next to first base, so Dean ran while Sam tried to get him out. 

John Winchester had just finished killing the dijinn, and was pulling into the parkwood lodge when he noticed a police car parked next to a woman with a shattered rearview window. 

“It just fell from the sky.” The woman cried. 

“The window is broken, so we’re assuming it was a kid playing baseball. The problem is they won’t open the door. I guess we’re going to have to bust the door down.”  

John inwardly groaned. Please don’t let that be his kids. He looked up and saw the busted window. Was that his room? He couldn’t tell. Surely his kids wouldn’t have done anything like that. 

As soon as John entered the building the manger came racing towards him. “There you are. I don’t know what kind of heathen’s you’re raising, but I’ve had several complaints about that room being too noisy. I would kindly ask for you and your family to pay for all the damages and leave.”

“Of course.” John said as calmly as he could. Internally, he was panicking. He didn’t even know what had happened, but he knew he needed to pacify the manager immediately. “Let me go collect my boys and see what this is all about. Then I promise I will pay for any damages my kids caused. I am so sorry.” With that he nearly raced upstairs. He couldn’t put his key in fast enough. 

As soon as he opened the door he was met with the most disgraceful sight. Molten anger rolled through him, as he stared at the disaster of a room and his two boys sitting on the couch, huddled together. 

John shook with fury as he noticed the floor was covered in a puddle of water. His eyebrows pulled down together, creating a terrifying glare as he noticed the broken hangers, soggy pillows, and an array of broken plastic water bottles. 

John felt his muscles tense, as he clenched his jaw, staring at his two fiendish children who looked really tiny now. 

Dean was sitting with an arm wrapped protectively around Sam. The other arm was stroking his brother’s back. Dean held his nervous gaze on John, refusing to break eye contact even though John’s narrowed brown eyes scared the crap out of him. Sam, on the other hand, had his face hidden in Dean’s chest. He was unable to look his father in the eye. _At least they both know what they did was wrong._

John stalked over to his boys, hovering above them, hands on his hips. “Got anything to say for yourselves?” 

Dean whimpered lowly, glancing at the ground. _I’ll take that as a no,_ John thought. But Sam lifted his head and said “We’re sorry.” 

“Sorry don’t pay the bills now does it?” John asked, voice dangerously calm. Both kids shook their heads, looking mortified and ashamed. _Good, they should be._

“Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused? Do you know how much this is gonna cost me? We’re not rich, boys. It takes me a long ass time to get the money I get. Half the time, I have to take a beating just to get this cash. And I can’t scam the credit card companies with huge expenses. How the hell am I supposed to pay for this?”

“We’re sorry.” Dean whispered. “We can help pay you back.”

“With what, boy? You don’t have a job. You’re thirteen for God’s sake, you can’t even hustle well, yet.” John yelled, voice rising. Dean shrunk back into the couch, hoping it would shield him away from his father’s wrath. 

“I’m gonna have to ask Pastor Jim to lend us the money and you know how much I hate being in debt to someone else. Even if he is my friend.” John shook his head, glancing around the room. 

“Jesus Christ! What did you do? Wrestle an ape?” 

Dean’s lower lip wobbled, green eyes brimming with tears, “We were playing baseball. We’re so sorry, Dad.” 

At this new found information, John was about ready to go ballistic. “Son of a...” He turned away, looking for something to hit that wasn’t his kids. He supposed the wall would do just fine. 

Sam cried out in fear as John violently punched the wall, probably causing even more damage than his boys did as the plaster crumbled off the wall like a pastry. A cloud of white dust and debris hung over John’s face while he continued pounding into the wall. 

Clinging to his brother, Sam tried to shield himself from his Dad’s rage. He knew he was in big trouble, but he didn’t want a spanking. He didn’t want to hurt. His big brother was no doubt thinking the same thing, because Sam could feel his soft tremors.

After splitting his knuckles wide open, John stopped his onslaught with a wince of pain. He shook his hand out a few times before grabbing the keys and heading for the door. 

“You two stay right here. If I see you even moved an inch off of that couch, you’ll really be sorry.” With that threat, John slammed the door, leaving his kids alone. He went downstairs to cool off. Also to speak with the police and the manager. It took longer than John wanted, but he finally made sure everyone was happy. 

It wasn’t an easy task. The greedy jackass manager couldn’t be bribed with a simple Benjamin. No, he needed five hundred dollars to forget about the whole mess. The five hundred dollars John had to earn in a dangerous poker game that resulted in two deaths. One of those people could have been him. He was lucky to make it out alive with that cash and where did that money end up? With a fucking hotel manager. Then he told John the actual price for all the damage and John wanted to whip his gun out and shoot the man in cold blood. 

Reluctantly, he called Pastor Jim who miraculously gave him his credit card number, which John used to pay for the huge expenses. _Three thousand dollars should cover it_ , the manager had said. _Oh yeah, just three grand, no big deal or anything._

John hastily scribbled Jim’s name, then he spoke with the police. Then, He gave his fake insurance card to the woman whose car was smashed. Once all of that was taken care of, John promised to have his boys out of the room in fifteen minutes tops. He wanted to go to a bar and drown himself in alcohol. But he knew he had to take the boys out of this hotel or else. So he went back upstairs to deal with his misbehaved children. 

Sam was resting on Dean’s lap when John re-entered the destroyed hotel room. The hotel manager had turned off the running water, in order to not flood the room. At the sound of his father’s footsteps, Dean’s head snapped to attention Wisely, the older boy chose to say nothing. He simply watched his dad place his coat on the chair, and roll up his sleeves. Dean’s stomach dropped at the sight. Nudging Sam up, Dean made sure to keep a comforting hand on his brother’s back. 

“Stand up, Sam.” John whispered. His youngest child visibly shook. Not wanting to waist any time, John lifted him up by his arm, then twisted him to bend over John’s hip. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and looked away as John swatted Sam, really hard, a few times. As soon as he was done with Sam he placed his youngest to the side, then gave Dean the same treatment. 

Whenever he was punishing the two boys together, He never wanted to embarrass them so he made sure to leave their clothes on. With that being said, John knew in order to make this impression sting, he was going to need something to help him out. 

Slowly, he slipped his belt off. John doubled the leather in his hands, making sure to hold on to the buckle part so it wouldn’t accidentally hit his kids. 

He wasn’t expecting Dean and Sam to recoil from him, although he probably should have seen it coming. This was the first time he’s ever taken a belt to either of them. By the blanch looks on their faces, John could see the fear forming. But John knew what he was doing. He knew how to wield a belt with care so it won’t leave any lasting marks or damage. He would never endanger his kids. 

“Calm down.” He spoke gruffly cause he just wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving just yet. His wallet still ached. Moving them by the scruff of their necks, he took them over to the window. 

“What happened?” John asked. Sam and Dean looked at the shattered window then pitifully looked at him. 

“Go on. Tell me what you did.” 

“We broke it.” Dean whispered. 

John nodded. “That’s right.” He grabbed Dean’s upper arm then swung the belt back, landing it on the center of Dean’s butt. His eldest jerked forward. 

“No!” Sam screamed. “Stop! You’re hurting him.” 

John applied a second one, then stopped. For tasting the belt for the first time, Dean didn’t make any noise. He only jumped which actually impressed John a little. 

He reached over to Sam and gave him two licks as well. His nine-year-old screamed out loud. After John released him, he bounced around, holding his butt,  crying to his brother about the pain.

Dean was glaring at his Dad while kneeling on the floor to get to Sam’s level. “Shhh.” He shushed, brushing the hair from his forehead.

 If John didn’t know any better he would have been concerned. But this was just how Sam reacted whenever he was getting something he didn’t like. It wasn’t like he was in an immense amount of pain. It was simply to defy John’s punishments. He once put Sam in time-out when the boy was really young and Sam screamed like he was being murdered. He told Sam he couldn’t buy the newest pair of blue jeans and Sam screamed, throwing a big fit. He told Sam he couldn’t join the basketball team and he cried. It’s just Sam’s typical reaction. 

Knowing they were ok, John guided his two boys to the sink, asking the same question. “What did you do?” 

Sam sniffled, rubbing at his tail end. “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to. Please don’t.” 

“Yeah Dad,” Dean added cautiously, “We get it. We really are sorry. Can’t we just forget it?”

“No Dean, we can’t. You wanna know why? Because I just spent well over three thousand dollars fixing this mess. I owe Pastor Jim my life and more. So the least I can do is make sure your hides hurt as bad as my wallet does!” 

“But they do.” Dean whined. “They really do.” 

“I don’t think you’re feeling the effects of three grand in the toilet. So I’ll decided when it’s enough. Now what did you do.” John yelled. 

“We broke the sink.” Sam cried angrily. 

“Right. Now turn around.” John ordered, already gripping Sam’s upper arm. 

“Please Dad,” Sam whimpered. John just motioned from his to turn. Sam moved very slowly. A line of fire burned through his jeans, then another quickly followed. Once again, John stopped after two strikes. He turned Dean around and gave him the two stokes as well. 

“Ow.” Dean muttered indignantly, rubbing back at the sting. It was Sam’s turn to glare at his Dad. 

Soon they were guided to the broken hangers. 

“Turn around.” Dean sighed, resigning to his fate. Another wish of the belt and another painful sting. It came down one more time before it was used on Sammy. 

Then they were standing in front of the water bottles. “Turn around.” 

John swore he saw his usually calm son, stomp his feet. There was a defiant look in Dean’s eye as he crossed his arms over his chest. John raised his eyebrows. “One.”

Dean’s eyes filled with water, but he spun around to look at the stupid water bottles. Waiting miserably for the stupid belt to fall. Dean wondered if his Dad was going to do this for every bad thing they did today, when he felt the leather cross the seat of his jeans. A loud yelp of surprise escaped his lips. Gritting his teeth, Dean took the second one with restored stoicism. 

John snapped his fingers at Sam, pointing to the spot in front of him. Naturally, Sam walked as if a brick of cement was tied to his feet. The younger boy looked worriedly towards his big brother. 

“He’s not saving you.” John said, stop looking at Dean and look at the mess you made.” John applied the two smacks quickly. By now, Sam wasn’t fake screaming anymore. He was actually beginning to sniffle. John knew he could wrap this up soon. 

He took the boys over to the broken coffee machine. “Turn around.” 

“Dad, how many times are you gonna make us do this? We said we are sorry. We really mean it.” Dean said. 

“I know you do, Dean. But sometimes sorry just ain’t good enough. There are consequences for all your actions. You need to learn that sorry isn’t going to save you if you break the law. Or if you make a permanent mistake like murdering an innocent person. Do you think sorry will make it all better? Do you think the police will let you out of jail because hey, this poor sap is sorry? No.”

“Okay, okay! I get it but I didn’t murder anyone, Dad!”

“No you just trashed a hotel room, smashed a woman’s car, and oh yeah, destroyed the floorboards. So I’m going to tell you one more time. Turn. Around.” 

Dean shoved his hands as far as he could into his olive green jacket. Glaring at his father, Dean pivoted on his heel. Stupid fucking Dad. 

John’s belt whistled through the air before it connected with the sorry backside in front of it. Dean shifted from side to side, a low whimper making itself known. When the second strike landed, Dean couldn’t hold it back any longer. He jolted forward, shouting something along the lines of ‘Ow.’ 

Sam was briefly reminded of the cartoon Tom and Jerry as his brother resembled a screaming Tom when the cat got his tail hammered. It would have been funny if Sam wasn’t next. 

Unfortunately, Sam looked worse than Tom because he was crying big fat tears after his father smacked him. 

“Are you happy? You made him cry!” Dean yelled. He backed off when John gave him a warning glare. 

Each boy had been given a total of ten stripes with the belt. By the end, Sam was a crying mess and Dean was soldiering through it. John sighed, actually Dean was mouthing his way through it. If John didn’t know Dean any better, he would have been pissed. But Dean always acted like a brat when he was scared. 

“All right.” John muttered pushing his belt through the loops of his pants. 

“Oh you’re done being Mr. Bender from the breakfast club?” 

“Shut it.”

“Should we do the monologue? No, Dad what about you? And then you can burn us with your cigars.” Dean spat with rage. 

“Let’s get back on the road. I think we’ve had enough fun in the parkwood lodge.”  John said, ignoring his son with ease. 

At those words, Sam buried himself into Dean’s arms, holding his brother in a vice like grip. “I don’t want to move. I like this hotel. Dean, please tell Dad to let us stay. Tell him we’ll be good.” Sam couldn’t stop himself from crying. 

His older brother, with his slightly spiky hair and fantastic smelling cologne, held Sam close to his heart, whispering in his ear, “I promise everything’s gonna be okay. Dad won’t be mad anymore and we’re gonna feel better really soon. So stop crying. Come on. We’ll get to another motel and have some really great food. You’ll make new friends. You’ll like the next school just as much. Stop crying, Sammy.” 

Dean thumbed away a few stray tears on his little brother’s face. “That’s it. Calm down.”

“I don’t want Dad to hate us.” Sam whispered. 

“He doesn’t hate us.” Dean assured his younger brother. 

“Then why won’t he forgive us.” 

“I do forgive you.” John finally spoke up. “Sammy. I will always forgive you. No matter what, son.” 

“Then why won’t you accept our apologies?” Sam cried, clinging to Dean’s shirt. 

John rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I accept your apology. I understand you are sorry and you made a mistake. But I want you to understand that mistakes have consequences whether your sorry or not. Hopefully next time you will think a little more before making a mistake.”

Sam sniffled dolefully. “Okay.” 

“Come on, you two. We really have to go or I swear the manager is going to call the police on us.”

John was halfway to the other side of Wisconsin when he heard his fat cell phone ring. It was one of those big block cell-phones from the 80’s. “Hello?”

It was Pastor Jim calling to see how everything went. John thanked him for all the money and explained what had happened. 

“Wow they really caused a lot of damage, huh?” 

“Yeah. They’re definitely my kids.” John muttered glancing through the rear-view mirror at his two sleeping children. Dean was resting his head against the window. He was sleeping sitting up, while Sam was resting his head on Dean’s lap. He was sprawled out on the backseat. 

“They had a long day. They’re both napping right now.” 

“What did you do to them anyway?” Jim asked curiously. 

“I told them they shouldn’t destroy hotel rooms.”

“Very funny. Seriously, what did you do? Take away their allowances?”

“They don’t get allowances, Jim. No, I sort of took my belt to them.”

“Sweet mother of God!” The cursing scream from Pastor Jim startled John. 

“Jim! You’re a religious man take it easy on the whole mother of God thing.” 

“I can’t believe you did that! What is wrong with you.”

“Did what?” John asked, then he sighed, “oh that. Listen, that was nothing. I only gave them a total of ten. I was careful. I know what I’m doing.” 

“I think that was too far, Johnny. They’re just a couple of small kids”

“They got what they deserved and they’re fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.” John shouted. “I know my kids, damnit! And trust me, they would let me know if they weren’t fine.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Jim asked, getting under John’s skin.

“Positive.” John snapped, “Sam would tell me straight out if he was still hurting or he’d keep crying. And Dean...well Dean might not tell me, but he shows it in other ways.”

“And what ways would that be?” Jim asked, “Because I certainly think your boy hides a lot of his feelings.”

“Yeah well, I can read right through him. If he’s really hurting he’d be laying still or deadly silent. If he’s scared he’ll be mouthing off to everyone. If he’s happy he’ll be annoying, loud, and a smart ass.”

“You make him sound unpleasant when he’s happy.”

“He is unpleasant.” John laughed dryly, “But it means he’s okay. And I’d rather have my smart ass kid any day over a silent shell of who he actually is.”

Jim finally let the conversation drop. He began talking about a church picnic that he was dying to get John to go to. He ended up waking his kids up with his loud chatter. After twenty minutes or so he hung up. 

Thanks to Jim’s scolding, a pang of guilt was sitting in John’s chest. He looked back at his two sleepy kids and decided to pull off at the nearest rest stop. 

“Anyone need to take a leak?” 

“I guess we could try.” Dean muttered, but I could’ve went a little while longer, Dad.”

John parked the impala and went inside the restroom with his two kids. 

“Are you two all right?” 

Dean scoffed, “Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“Yeah Dad, you’re acting weird.” Sam said. 

“Go take a look in the bathroom mirror and let me know if you have any raised welts.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot to the top of his skull, “seriously?” John nodded. 

“Dad we’re fine.” Dean said.

“I’d feel better if you told me if you had any welts.”

Dean rolled his eyes but went into the stall. “Yeah, I’m good.” He called back. 

“No welts.”

“No.”

“Redness?”

Dean’s face flushed darkly, “Come on are you trying to humiliate me? Of course I’m red you freaking whipped my ass two hours ago.” 

Sam laughed lightly. “You’re so angry it’s amusing.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s fine, Sammy. You tell Dad if you have any welts.”

“You suck, Dean.”

He smiled way too proudly at that. John was going to have gray hair in a few years. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So... I hope no one is punching their screen. ;) 
> 
> Also I wrote this on my I-phone so i’m sorry about the random capitalization at places. 
> 
> I’ll be taking a small break to get ready for the start of school next semester. So I probably won’t post for another two weeks. I’m sorry for the wait. Thank you for reading as always. :)


End file.
